


Shadows In His Eyes

by CamCamx3



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dark at first, Heavy Character Analysis, Heavy Character Progression, Long-Term Fiction, M/M, Personality Disorder, Rating May Change?, Slow Build, T for Dark Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:10:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6151744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CamCamx3/pseuds/CamCamx3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Left behind, a boy with a profound love for volleyball throws himself into the dark shadow of his mind to become the star of the court. Carson Aliere, a 1st year transfer student, finds himself standing side by side with the “Iron Wall” of Date Tech High. He leaves himself behind and lets the shadow within take his place on the court. How long until his shadow disperses under the glaring lights of the court and Carson is left all alone in the spotlight?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Darkened Childhood

**Author's Note:**

> “Most people think that shadows follow, precede or surround beings or objects. The truth is that they also surround words, ideas, desires, deeds, impulses and memories.”  
> -Elie Wiesel

 

Back when I was a kid, barely in kindergarten, I remember finding my mom’s high school yearbook. She never really told me about her past before, probably because of what happened between her and dad, but I remember seeing for the first time what she looked like when she was younger. But most of all, I got to see that she played volleyball, varsity at that. Eventually she found me and scolded me for digging in her things, but she glanced at the yearbook sentimentally, and I think I saw a tear run down her cheek as she lifted me up.

 

When I was a little older, I asked why she had played volleyball. She said something along the lines of “Well, my friends played it so I wanted to play with them,” which, as a kid still, I didn’t push any further. If I had known, maybe I wouldn’t have picked up volleyball in the end.

 

“Would you ever consider playing it again? Maybe with me, mom?” I asked, my childhood curiosity flaring. She turned to look at me, and in that moment her eyes glinted pain, but quickly changed to show motherly love and happiness.

 

“If that’s what you want to do, Carson. I might have a volleyball stored somewhere we can play with.” She replied as she moved past me into the hallway leading off into the back of the house. I simply waited, hoping with all my heart that she’d find a volleyball, or even just a similar ball, to play with. I had never really played a sport before, my mother too busy to allow me to do such, so I was beyond ecstatic to play.

 

Eventually my mother returned, volleyball in hand, prodding and pressuring to see if it had enough air in it. “I think this should be fine to play with, Carson. Let’s head out into the backyard and I’ll teach you a little bit of volleyball.” She said. As a kid, I didn’t pick up on the slight sadness in her tone. We played with the volleyball for what felt like hours, and in that passing time, I learned one important thing:

 

I loved volleyball.

 

When I was nine, I decided I wanted to play volleyball on a team. After telling my mother about my desire to play, she wasn’t surprised. “I’ve known you have wanted to play since the first time you touched the ball. I think there’s a children’s volleyball association downtown, maybe we can sign you up there, Carson!”

 

I remember jumping onto my mother, her yelp of surprise, nearly collapsing her and myself onto the kitchen floor; it was all so vivid. As well, I felt a sensation in the back of mind, like a memory trying to resurface, but it never came. It seems like a dream now, but back then, it was the start of a new beginning for me, a beginning I haven’t forgotten.

 

The following week, my mother and I traveled downtown to the youth group that hosted volleyball for children. Most of the kids there were girls and I wasn’t entirely sure this was the right place, but, my mother made sure I knew this was it. The man at the counter, his brown, shaggy hair covering his face as he looked at a sports magazine. On the cover was a woman, whom I couldn’t read the name of, with a volleyball in hand and a net behind her. I stared for a while, the air silent as the man didn’t notice our approach.

 

“…Excuse us.” My mother said to the man. He looked up, his hair following the movement and landing around his face. “Is this where we sign up for youth volleyball? My son here would like to play.” My mother continued as she pointed to my still staring self.

 

“Uh, yea, this is where you sign up. What’s his name, ma’am?” the man asked, dropping the magazine onto the counter, my eyes still following it childishly. He began shuffling papers and scavenging for a pen to write down my name.

 

“Carson. Carson Aliere.”

“And yours?”

“Lea Mayson.”

 

It didn’t strike me back then that my mother took a different last name than I had. It didn’t actually strike me until I was much older, when I realized the hard truth that dad wasn’t in the picture anymore, and never would be again. We weren’t a normal family, and I was probably never normal either.

 

I played volleyball with the youth group for months, never really getting any better. I was usually the last one to get picked for teams when it came to handpick. Otherwise, I usually sat out when we were doing competitions, only going in to play when a kid was too tired to continue. When my mother got time to watch me, I’d look to her and she’d just smile and mouth “They’ll put you in soon, I promise.” Little did I know, when I wasn’t looking, she was glaring daggers at the youth coach to put me in.

 

When the youth group let out for the year, the youth coach took us out to the park a few blocks away. There, a kid from the youth group came up to me, a little haughty bounce in each step. The kid was the most picked, if I remembered correctly, but I know he excelled more at the game than I did.

“Hey you, loser.” He started. “How come after all this time you still can’t do much? That’s probably why you’re never picked until the very end!” he finished and started laughing.

 

“I’m.. I’m not a loser! Not everyone can be good at a sport right away…!” I cry out, tears slightly welling in my eyes as my face scrunches up in anger and sadness.

 

“Even the kids that aren’t good at the game are better than you, loser!” he retorted, more laughter filling the air. As his laughter increased, so did the kids surrounding us. One by one and two by two they appeared, all wondering what was going on. “Look at this loser everyone! Remember how he sat on the bench all the time!” he started again.

 

His words pelted me, like cold rain in the winter. Some kids started to laugh with him, and some even joined in on the banter. My mind became a jumble of words and laughter, and I covered my ears with my hands.

 

“He could barely get the ball in the air!”

“I don’t think he ever scored a point!”

“Why did he even keep coming if he was never gonna play!”

 

My eyes began flowing hot tears, my cheeks resembling a windowsill during a rain shower. All the while, the kids kept going on about me. Laughing and pointing, laughing and pointing, laughing and pointing…

 

Eventually, it all just stopped. Everything just, stopped. I heard nothing for what felt like a long time, and then, suddenly, a single voice calls out.

 

“Hey. Hey Carson? You’re not a loser, you’ve got me.”

I couldn’t identify where the voice was coming from. As I opened my eyes, all I saw before me was darkness. The playground, the kids, the cityscape behind it, all gone and replaced by a void of darkness. The voice calls out to me again.

 

“Carson. Over here, Carson!”

 

I turn towards what I perceive as the source of the voice, and, I falter. My eyes fall upon a figure, slightly shrouded by the darkness, but I can see the face. The face… That can’t be right, there’s no way that’s right…

 

“Who, who are you?!” I shriek in panic at the familiar. The figure moved out of the darkness and into a light I didn’t know was there. Fully illuminated, I can see, that whoever this is, is…

 

“I’m you, Carson, but I prefer to be called Alex, if you don’t mind.” Alex said, his voice, my voice, seeming to be far too calm for the situation at hand. I stared in disbelief as he stood there, in all his identical glory, facing me. Eventually, he began again, “I know, I know, this is really, really weird. I’m you and you’re you, but isn’t there only supposed to be one you? Well, technically, there is only one you, Carson, and there’s only one me, Alex.”

 

I continued staring, words refusing to be formed in any coherent way. Seeing that I was still distraught, Alex continued, “This is a lot harder than I thought it would be, but it’s the first time I’m able to talk to you, Carson. The kids out there? They don’t know about me, they only know about you, Carson. I want to play for you, Carson. It’s strange to me too, but, I seem to know a lot about volleyball, and you don’t.”

 

“So, I’ll cut to the chase; I want to offer you this: let me play volleyball and you can do everything else. Deal?” Alex asked, extending his hand towards me.

 

I, I didn’t know what to say to that; I didn’t know what it even meant. He gets to play volleyball, but I get to do everything else? What? I close and rub my eyes furiously, hoping I’m just imagining all this. But to my dismay, I open my eyes to see Alex still standing there, his hand extended towards me.

 

“I… I don’t get it. What does that even mean?” I ask, still trying to grasp even a straw of meaning from his words.

 

“Well, Carson, we’re one and the same. I’m part of you, but, I’ve been locked away in the shadows. Now, I’m free. I’ve been watching volleyball and playing volleyball with you since you played volleyball with your mom, but, now, I think I can play! Just, let me do the work, ok? I swear I won’t do anything else!” Alex exclaims at the end, flashing my smile at me.

 

He really is me, but, why does he seem different? His whole personality is different from mine, but, he’s me, right? And what does “let me do the work” mean? How do I do that?

“I’m even more confused than when you started…” I sigh, exhaustion starting to rack my brain.

“Don’t worry, it will get clearer sooner or later. Once I do my thing, you’ll understand.” Alex explained. “Just, leave it to me, Carson!” As he said that, the light went out and his voice began to echo behind me. The darkness slowly faded back into the playground I was in before. All the kids still laughing and pointing as if none of what just happened… happened.

 

The next thing I know, my body moves on its own. “You know what! I challenge you to a match, kid!” my voice resounded. Wait, I didn’t say that, or did I? Is my imagination going haywire again?

 

“Hey,” I hear inside my head, “don’t worry, it’s me, Alex! I told you just leave it to me!” I feel even more confused as to what’s going on. So, Alex was real? He’s really me? Is he controlling my body right now? My mind is a flurry of questions, but, my body and voice seem to be resolute.

 

“Oh, really? The loser wants to challenge me to a match? Where are we supposed to play, loser? We don’t even have a ball either!” the kid yells back. I feel embarrassed for these actions. I can’t beat him in volleyball, there’s no way.

 

“I’m gonna ask the coach to take us back for one more match! This will be the final match and I will win against you!” Alex says through me, his passion and determination radiating so heavily even I feel it. Maybe some of the other kids felt it too since some start to back away, the laughing and pointing coming to a complete end.

 

“Fine!” the kid says, his arms crossing as he turns to walk to the youth coach. After beginning to walk towards the coach, I feel exhausted suddenly. But despite my feeling, my body keeps going, and eventually, I lose consciousness.

 

Apparently, from what my mother, and Alex, told me, I won the match.

* * *

 

Since that day, Alex has played volleyball for me, and I’ve done everything else. Just as our deal stated. With Alex playing, I made the varsity boys in middle school, well, Alex made the varsity boys. I just made sure my grades were good enough to keep playing. Alex really enjoyed volleyball, so I did too.

 

Originally, I had wanted to be a setter, having learned that my mother played that position in high school. However, Alex didn’t want to be the setter, something about “his/my talents weren’t in being a setter.” Instead, Alex played as a libero, since “our talents were in speed and receiving,” which I brushed off. Alex did well his first year on a team, bringing the boys team to the championships. However, in the final match, Alex and I hit a limit.

 

The third, final set of the match, 23-21 with our team leading. Usually during matches, I lose consciousness and Alex has full control, but for this match I fought against not seeing our, most likely, important victory. I remember my body aching all over, my muscles screaming to stop my movements, but Alex and I pushed through because we wanted to win. But when one of our teammates didn’t receive the ball properly and sent it out of bounds, I fell apart.

 

“No…” Alex whispered, however, I believed he meant to scream it; in that fleeting moment, he had retreated back into the depths of my mind, consciously or not. In turn I had full control of my body, but, its limit had been reached. My legs gave out from under me, and I plummeted to the floor. I tried to catch myself, but, my head hit the floor and I passed out.

 

We lost that game, and, Alex lost himself. 

* * *

 

By the time I was at the end of my middle school career, multiple schools had tried to recruit me for my, Alex’s, abilities in volleyball. I refused most of them, mainly because my mother and I couldn’t move away without aide, which none of the schools offered. Every time I declined another school, in my mind I could hear Alex yelling.

 

“Why are you staying at such a trash school?!”

“You don’t have friends here so what are holding onto?”

“Why won’t you let me play on a REAL team!?”

“Why, why, why, WHY?!”

 

Eventually, Alex stopped yelling, but with that he became more active in my life. He’d come up while I’m sitting in class, urging me to do something drastic, dangerous, thrilling. He’d start whispering while I was home to throw a fit and yell at my mother, try to get me punished. Eventually, he even tried to take over a few times and cause the ruckus himself, but, I persisted against him.

 

My growing paranoia and strange behavior led my mother to take me to a psychiatrist, where they diagnosed me with Dissociative Identity Disorder. That day my mother cried for the first time in years, I believe, and I… I just sat there, Alex pounding me with insult after insult as I stared ahead. My mother dared to look into my eyes, and her cries flourished for the final time.

 

“That’s not my son! Those eyes aren’t his! They used to be full of light and happiness! Now all they are... are shadows!”


	2. One and the Different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “There are no mistakes. The events we bring upon ourselves, no matter how unpleasant, are necessary in order to learn what we need to learn; whatever steps we take, they're necessary to reach the places we've chosen to go.”  
> -Richard Bach

After middle school, my mother decided it was best for me to receive treatment. Alex, after having been discovered by more than myself, began pushing harder and harder within my mind. I had fits of lunacy, becoming violent and speaking rashly, Alex trying to make moves to become in control. My first psychiatrist recommended one across the country in New York, and the one there recommended one in Virginia, and the one after that….

My mother and I traveled the country for two months, before finally giving in to an overseas recommendation we’d heard over and over: Dr. Takamura in Sendai, Japan. Since, being raised in America for the entirety of my life, I knew next to nothing about Japan except it was a country.

“Do we actually have to move to Japan, mom? Can’t we just keep this psychiatrist? Why do we have to leave America?” I whined, both tired from having moved constantly for two months and now exhausted to think we’d move across the world.

“You know we’ve heard this recommendation multiple times. It is best we finally take the recommendation up and see if he is really as effective as they portray.” My mother sighed as she turned to me. Her face showed how exhausted she was, probably more exhausted than I was at that; the stress of moving more heavy on her back than mine. Her eyes looked filled with resignation and depression, as if all this was her fault. It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t anyone fault really; or, at least that’s what all the psychiatrists told us. I still didn’t know how I felt about that phrase.

“I… I guess” I whispered, “but, we know little to nothing about Japan, let alone the language! How are we going to learn the language before we move?” I questioned reluctantly.

My mother looked towards me once more. “We’re just going to learn it as fast as we can. We need a working knowledge of the language, not a perfect understanding, plus. We’ll learn personally when we are… in Japan…”

She drifted away as she finished her thought, like she didn’t believe we were moving to Japan either, and I could understand why. A working knowledge of a foreign country in less than a month? I wasn’t sure it was possible, and I don’t think she did either, really. I looked towards her, her figure slightly hunched over a laptop on the bare desk in the apartment’s corner. The desk resembled our life since the discover of my illness: barren, void of life and happiness. I’d kept playing volleyball, or, well, practicing would be a better word; I had no one to play with, really. I hadn’t gone to school since we moved around so much; “It’s better that way,” my mother had said.

With that thought, Alex perked up within my mind. “Did I hear volleyball? Are we going to play? We’re playing, right, Carson…” Alex growled at the end, making me move towards the volleyball by the door.

“I’m going out to play volleyball, mom. Be back soon.” I said, almost robotically, having said it hundreds of times due to Alex. My mom turned to me, eyes again filled with resignation, and then she nodded her head. I bent down to put my shoes on, and when I was done I picked up the white, standard volleyball.

As I got up, my eyes caught a glance of the reflection in the mirror by the door. Curious, I looked into the mirror. Standing before me was me: my short auburn hair accompanying my slim face. My eyebrows were slightly messy above my light blue eyes, a slight glimmer in them. I stared deeper into those eyes, and when I refocused to my entire face, I stepped back, shocked. There, in the mirror now, was Alex, his smile arrogant and demeaning, his eyes piercing and dark.

“Let’s go, Carson. We’re playing volleyball, re-mem-ber?” Alex said, the last word being articulated punctually.

“Yeah, we’re playing volleyball, I remember…” I whispered as I opened the door leading outside. As I closed the door, I heard my mother break into a slow sob, and it only grew louder in my mind as I retreated back into the shadows, letting Alex come over me once more.

* * *

 

In early April, my mother and I finally moved to Japan. We ended up living in Miyagi instead of Sendai, the price of living being much more reasonable. There in Miyagi, the volleyball scene was extreme, much more than back in the States. There was Karasuno, Aoba Josai, Datekougyou, and many other high schools to choose from, but, I didn’t really have a choice on which to attend. Date Tech was the only school that accepted our request for aid due to our circumstances, and as well, we lived closest to it, which was heavily influenced by the financial aid. I researched the school for days before moving, discovering their nickname of the “Iron Wall,” which I completely understood seeing their incredibly high block rate, the highest in the country actually, and their school colors were green and white.

“You’re thinking about Date Tech again. I want to join in, Carson; you can’t think volleyball and not include me!” Alex chided within. I simply rolled my eyes and finished tying the yellow tie of my school uniform.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I really know that you like volleyball. You don’t have to keep reminding me, it’s been 5 years almost.” I rebuked, grabbing my backpack from next to my bed as well as my gym bag. As I shouldered my bags, Alex poked at me again.

“Ya know, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even be going to Date Tech. You got offered aid because of MY volleyball skills. You’re grades aren’t good enough for that school, let alone now that you know half the curriculum.”

I stopped midway down the hallway, his words echoing in my mind. I really wouldn’t have been able to go to Date Tech if they hadn’t recruited me for volleyball, so I guess I can thank Alex for…

“No, no no no. If you weren’t here, I wouldn’t have had to move to Japan in the first place, Alex!” I shoot back, having realized that he was trying to play me again. Alex tries to weaken my resolve, more so now since Date Tech recruited me, to try and achieve control. It’s never worked, but it has come close a few times.

“Whatever, say what you want. I’m going back to sleep.” Alex hissed as I continued down the hallway. Entering the front, I see my mother sitting on the couch, a Japanese language book in hand and an intense look on her face. I contemplate saying anything to her; I might break her concentration.

“Have fun at school.” My mother says, in Japanese surprisingly. I stutter a little as I tie my shoe, the language catching me off guard once again. I nod my head and stand up to leave, looking in the mirror I’d placed right by the door. I needed to remind myself that this is my body, and as I stared into the eyes looking back at me, I saw the same blue glimmer.

“That’s me, alright.” I mutter to myself, and I depart to Date Tech.

* * *

 

Date Tech was intimidating, not only from the fact that I knew literally no one at the school, but the size of the student populace was frightening. I stood at the edge of the gate, looking into the sea of students. And, why were some of them so tall? I’ve never felt small before being 5’ 7”, but, I’m pretty sure some of them are over six feet tall. Wait, doesn’t Japan use the metric system…? Another thing to learn and get used to, I guess.

 I was pulled out of my trance by someone bumping into my shoulder. Turning to look at the perpetuator, I was again shell-shocked by the height of this guy. He had to be half way to seven feet tall, and… did he have no eyebrows? He just looked at me and nodded his head, as if in apology. I simply nodded in return, not knowing what other gesture to use. The giant continued on his way after that, parting the sea of kids and entering the school.

“He probably plays volleyball with that height.” Alex suddenly said. “An effective middle blocker if he did.”

“I… can see that, actually. He’s kinda… scary. I don’t think I could ever go against him, also, did he have no eyebrows, or was that just me?” I question in reply. Alex seems to ponder for a little bit, or, he went back to sleep.

The bell rings and it seems Alex has gone back to sleep. I realize only when I’m halfway down the hallway that I don’t actually know where I’m going. Also, I realize that stopping in the middle of a crowded hallway wasn’t the best of ideas as I get pushed down from the guy behind me.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry! Here, here, let me help you up!” the guy yelped as he squatted down to help me up. I grab his arm and push upwards off the ground, the guy pulling me up with ease.

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have stopped in the middle of the hallway… Umm, do you happen to know where I can get a schedule for classes?” I ask the guy. His black hair is parted down the middle, and his brown eyes are staring back at me somewhat puzzled; he’s also slightly shorter than I am. Did I say something wrong? I might have, I don’t know the language very well…

“OH… I know what you’re trying to say. You’re asking about your homeroom, right?” he replies, confirming my suspicion that I had said something wrong.

“Yes, yes, my homeroom.” I articulate. “I’m Carson Aliere… Wait, that’s not how names work here… I’m Aliere Carson, and if you could help me that would be incredible.”

As I bowed, the guy got flustered and started waving his hands in dismissal. “You don’t have to bow, it’s ok! I’m Sakunami Kosoke, first year. I’ll show you where you can get your assigned homeroom number.” He turns as he says that, and I begin walking by his side as we go back to where I entered from.

“So, Aliere-kun, where are you from? You don’t seem to be from Japan… Sorry, that’s not very nice to say!” he cries as he clasps his hands together in apology and begins to bow. I lift him up with my hands before he bows fully.

“Oh, it’s fine; I do really stick out here, don’t I? I’m from America and I just moved here.” I chuckle. To think that it’s so obvious I don’t fit in here. It can’t be my height since there are much taller guys here than I expected. Must be my face, or maybe how I present myself…

“Hey, stop daydreaming kiddo, he’s trying to help you. Pay attention.” Alex snides, causing me to turn back towards Sakunami, who apparently stopped a while back. I rub the back of my head and my ears heat up a little.

I manage a sorry before he waves me towards a doorway. I step inside to see a woman behind a desk, possibly a secretary or office aide, rolling a pen between her fingers as she looks down onto the desk. Sakunami goes up to her when I don’t make a move to continue.

“Excuse me, ma’am? I have a new student here that would like his homeroom number. His name is Aliere Carson and he’s a…” he turns to me as if asking me to finish the sentence. “What year are you?” he whispers.

“Uh… First year?” I stutter. I completely forgot how the school system worked here in Japan, and I really hoped I guessed correctly. Embarrassment plastered my face as I glance away to avoid eye contact. A man’s voice breaks the silence.

“Aliere Carson? You’re in my homeroom, Class 1-C. I’m Nakamori-sensei, your homeroom teacher.” The man says and he extends his hand in greeting. I shake his hand and learn his face: he’s at least thirty years old, black hair swept back, his eyes shrouded by the glare of his glasses. He seems, very, typical for a teacher.

He gestures for me to follow him and exits into the hallway. I wave to say goodbye to Sakunami, but, he’s right beside me gleaming.

“We’re in the same homeroom! Who would have thought?” Sakunami beams. We walk in somewhat happy silence before reaching our destination. Nakamori turns towards me and ushers Sakunami inside.

“You’re going to have to introduce yourself to the class. Just tell them who you are and where you came from. They should like you, since you’re foreign.” He says and walks into the classroom. I follow suit and immediately freeze up. It was slightly noisy before I entered, but now, it is dead silent. All eyes are trained on me, as if I’m some sort of freak of nature in a circus.

“Hey, Carson, calm down. You’re an American in Japan, at a pretty good school that doesn’t get a lot of foreigners. Of course they’re going to stare at you! Get a grip and introduce yourself before I do it myself.” Alex says, and I feel my mind grow a little heavier. He’s trying to do this for me, but that’s not the deal we made. I take a deep breath and turn towards the class.

“My name is Aliere Carson, I’m from America. I like to play volleyball and hope to do well here.” I announce and bow. The class erupts into whispers about what I mostly pick up as me being from America.

“Thank you, Aliere-kun. You may sit down in the empty seat over there.” Nakamori instructs as he points to the desk… right next to Sakunami. Sakunami’s face lights up with excitement and he squirms in his seat. As I sit down, he turns to me to ask something but Nakamori stops us.

“Today, we’re starting with Japanese Literature.” He says as he begins writing something on the chalkboard behind him. The class simultaneously groans, I as well.

This is going to be a long day.

* * *

 

When the school day ended, Sakunami poked me to get my attention. Half-asleep, I jolt in my seat, nearly falling over and onto the floor.

“I’m sorry! I just wanted to ask if you were trying out for the volleyball team! You said you liked volleyball, but I didn’t get to ask earlier because of Nakamori-sensei. I’m the team’s libero!” Sakunami exclaimed, a little too loud for my liking.

“Oh, yeah, I’m going to play volleyball. I was actually, uh, recruited to play on the team by the Coach Oiwake. I play…” I start, but do not finish. How exactly do I say “Hey, I was recruited to play for this team as your position! Haha, hope you like sitting on the bench!” but not meanly?

“I play libero too; that’s what I was recruited for.” Alex finishes for me, a little harsher than expected. Sakunami pulls back a little, from surprise due to Alex’s tone or my position on the team.

“I’m sorry, that came off a little rude. I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t mean to take your position, it’s just what they picked me for.” I try to explain, hoping not to have him think I’m out to take his position. Which, I’m not; Alex might, but I’m definitely not.

“Oh, that’s fine! They probably recruited you cause you’re really good, Aliere-kun!” Sakunami says, a smile forming on his face. His eyes seemed to shine with what looked like competitiveness, like he wasn’t going to lose his position on the team to some foreigner.

“Hmph, doesn’t matter what he thinks, I’m playing libero.” Alex comments innerly with disgust. “I’m not going to lose to this kid, no matter how good he is.”

“Hey, are you listening? Aliere-kun?” Sakunami asks, his face much closer than I remember it was. Again, I jolt, but this time, I fall out of my chair, hitting my head on another chair during my descent.

“Ok, ow… I really need to stop zoning out; that’s the third time today…” I mutter as I rub my head. That’s probably going to leave a bump and mom’s going to worry. Great.

“Sorry! I just asked if you wanted to make your way down to the gym and meet the team. You haven’t met the team, have you?” he questions, his figure now looming over mine. He offers his hand again to hoist me up, and I attempt to grab it, but, I don’t.

“Yeah, that would be great, Sakunami-kun. I’ve been itching to play volleyball all day, I even brought my gym bag with my equipment. Lead the way.” Alex says through me as he pushes himself off the floor. I’m thoroughly bewildered; Alex took control without any resistance. Has he always been able to do that? Is that new?

“Don’t worry, it’s just that we’re going to be playing volleyball soon, so I thought I’d tag in early. Sorry for not telling you, Carson.” Alex answers. Well, I guess that answers one question.

“Awesome! You’re gonna like the team. They’re all really good!” Sakunami cheers. “Follow me!” is heard as he bolts out the classroom in the direction of the gym.

My body shoulders the gym bag and steps out the classroom door. “Let’s play some volleyball.” Alex says, and I feel myself falling out of consciousness.

“We’re one and the different, you and me, Carson…” Alex starts, but, I don’t hear anything else as I fall deep into the shadows of my mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I finally got to the school, but not the volleyball team. I thought I'd let Alex be the POV for volleyball when it comes around to that, so I'll make the whole next chapter probably dedicated to the team and such. Also, I asked my friend a load of questions about how Japan works (he has quite a bit of knowledge), but if there's anything that isn't near how it actually works, let me know. I do want to accurately tell this story, so anything helps. Critiques are always welcome, and I'll update when I can! Maybe tomorrow even! Thanks for reading.


	3. Star in the Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Volleyball is one of the most interactive games going. It is a game of intuition, imagination, improvisation—but most of all, of reciprocity. Of teamwork. There is no way to freelance in volleyball.”  
> -Marv Dunphy

**Alex POV:**

Following the over-excited libero Sakunami was a pain. The whole trek to the gym was filled with nonstop questions about how I had gotten into volleyball, which, I had no reason to answer. Who did the kid think he was to ask questions when he couldn’t even pronounce my last name?

“Aliere-kun…” Sakunami started.

“It’s Ah-lee-air, not whatever you’re trying to pronounce it as.” I pointed out, my tone slightly aggravated from both the questions and the way he said it. I wish he’s just stop talking for five minutes and take me to the gym.

“Oh, sorry. Aliere-kun, you still haven’t told me why you got into volleyball! Or even why you play libero! Isn’t it an amazing feeling to receive a powerful serve or spike?” he beamed at me, his eyes seemingly full of nostalgia and glee. These kind of people annoyed me to no ends.

“I started when I was nine, and I was naturally good at receiving, so I became a libero. There’s no grand story behind it all.” I answered, adjusting my gym bag for what was probably the tenth time out of annoyance. “Can we just get to the gym and play? I’d rather keep question and answer sessions for school.” 

Sakunami’s gleeful expression dropped, being replaced by minor disappointment and defeat. He seemed to be contemplating whether to ask a question or just keep going in silence. Gladly, he chose to be silent, resulting in a sigh of relief from me. Now I can concentrate on things that matter, like volleyball.

Well, I would have concentrated on volleyball if I hadn’t ran right into Sakunami. This whole day, all this kid has done for me is put me on the floor or in pain. Hopefully I’ll return the favor when I take his spot…

“This is the club room.” He said pointing towards the door beside him. “We do all our changing and personal storage here.” With that, he opened the door and proceeded in, I taking a quick glance in before proceeding as well. “Hiyo~! We have a new member!” Sakunami exclaimed as he reached the middle of the room.

As I step in, all eyes turn towards me like moths might to a sudden flame. Their faces were all somewhat surprised; I guess I wasn’t what they thought I would be. In return, none of them were what I thought they’d be. Every single one of them had different eyebrows, and, wait… did that one not have eyebrows? Wait, didn’t he bump into me this morning? Carson was right, he is scary looking…

“Oh, so you’re the new member Coach was talking about. Welcome to the team, I’m Moniwa Kaname, the captain.” Someone said, pulling me out of my observational trance. The someone in question was an average sized male, black hair, and his eyes looked like that of a cat's. His hand extended towards me in greeting, and I returned the gesture. “I guess I should introduce you to all the members, or, they could introduce themselves if they wanted!” Moniwa said, abashed. I guess he didn’t want to impose on everyone’s introductions?

“I’m Kamasaki Yasushi, vice-captain.” The blonde behind him said, approaching forward. He was taller than Moniwa, built more as well, and his face defined seriously. I simply waved in response, not much for personal contact in retrospect. I look back over to the giant.

“Who’s he?” I asked. The giant was impressive; tall, built, silver hair, seemingly strange and mysterious. He hadn’t said a word, and had kept a perpetual scowl across his face. Was he angry? What was he thinking? How is he viewing me right now, am I weak or strong to him? If he thinks I’m weak, he’s got another thing coming.

“Oh, that’s Aone.” Moniwa replied. Aone grunted, as if to say yes or hello, which I don’t know. “He doesn’t talk much, but he’s the best middle blocker here.” Huh, so my suspicions were correct: he was a middle blocker with that height. I would assume that he’s a main reason behind the title “Iron Wall” that Date Tech holds so dearly.

“Hey!” a female voice cut through the air. I turned to see a girl with light brown hair and darker brown eyes standing in the doorway. “You’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry up! You know what Coach makes you do when you’re late! Hurry, hurry!” she chanted. Her words hit the team like electricity, their movements more focused and quick. In a matter of seconds they were out of the clubroom, and only I remained, gym bag still hanging from my shoulder.

“You can use that locker over there. Coach won’t get mad at you for being late, since you’re new, but, don’t take too long! I’m Nametsu Mai by the way, the team’s manager!” the girl beamed with a smile across her face. She then followed suit with the boys, making her way across to the gymnasium. Ah, the manager; I should have expected that. Although, I’d never had a manager before, so I really wouldn’t have expected that.

What am I saying, I should get ready; I’m here for volleyball, not life analysis. With swiftness, I change out of my uniform into the green gym shorts and white tee the school provided. I laced my gym shoes and adjusted my pads, and embarked to the gymnasium. Even before getting relatively close, I could hear the sound of volleyballs meeting skin and wood. My heart began to beat faster in anticipation. This was it, what I’ve looked forward to for a long time.

The thrill of the game.

* * *

 

Entering into the gym, I saw a few other members of the team that hadn’t been in the club room before, but, I didn’t receive much time to learn their features or names.

“Aliere-kun, come here.” A gruff voice commanded, my head searching for its source. My eyes landed on a man, probably forty years or so, with jet-black hair slicked backwards framing a face of scrutiny. As I approached the man, who I assumed to be Coach Oiwake, his eyes scanned my being; his face never really showing what he his thoughts were.

“I don’t have much to say to you, Aliere-kun, but I do have one thing. I expect nothing less than the best from you; you were praised back in America but you won’t receive that praise here until you’ve earned it.” Oiwake began.  “Whether you become a starter will fully lie on your commitment and cooperation with the team. As it is now, Sakunami-kun meshes well with the team, and I doubt you’ll be able to replace him immediately. Your actions here in practice will be intensely observed, so again, I expect nothing less than the best. Now go get warmed-up with the rest.” He waved his hand off in the direction of the others from the club room, who were now stretching or doing laps. I turned to join them, his speech resounding in my mind the whole time.

“He thinks I can’t do better than Sakunami? That’s what he thinks? Oh, he’s got another thing coming if that’s how he feels towards me. I’m taking that spot whether he thinks I can or not.” I mutter during my stretches. My body, fueled with determination, loosen up quickly with the stretches; the laps were refreshing, life-bringing almost. But nothing felt better than taking the first step onto the court, my being enclosed by white lines.

To some, this court was just a place to play a friendly game, but to me, it was a stage to perform on. I, one of many players that took to the stage in hopes to provide a beautiful and stunning piece of work, thrived here in these lines. My life, my calling, was to perform on one of many stages just like this one and to one day end up on the grandest of them all: the national stage.

“Today, to get a feel for how compatible Aliere-kun is with the team, we’ll be having a four on four match. I want Aliere-kun and Sakunami-kun on different sides, other than that, distribute yourselves. First to fifteen wins.” Oiwake ordered. Sakunami looked to me as he crossed to the other side of the net with a spark in his eye, as if saying “Good luck, but I’ll win!”

“Tsk. We’ll see about that.” I grumbled. I took a glance to who was on my side of the net. Well, I got the mountain of a blocker, Aone, along with the captain Moniwa and some other kid with a buzzcut I didn’t know. Blondie was on the other side with Sakunami and two more kids I didn’t know. At least I know my team has a better chance at blocking, hopefully.

“Aliere-kun, huddle.” Moniwa called, motioning for the rest to follow as well. “So, we have essentially all the necessary components for a team: a setter, blocker, spiker, and a receiver. Oh, I should probably tell you who this is, Aliere-kun.” Moniwa gestured towards the kid next to him. “This is Obara Yutaka, a wing spiker. I’ll be setting and obviously you and Aone know where to go. Let’s do our best.” Moniwa concluded, breaking the huddle and us all jogging to our rightful places on the court. It was time to show them all why I was recruited.

Blondie ended up getting the serve, and to my surprise, he had accuracy and power behind the ball. The slap of his hand against the ball echoed with the gym, and time seemed to slow as I watched the ball soar over the net. Where was it going…? Ah… There! My body shifted into movement as I went under the ball’s path. The ball hit my forearms and I could feel the sting of the serve, but, I had felt that same sting a thousand times before; it was thrilling. My receive was near perfect, if not perfect all together, and I sent the ball into the air towards Moniwa. Moniwa followed through and set to Obara, who spiked it through Blondie’s and another kid’s block. We had scored the first point.

The first point of a game was always a compelling event. It often set the tone of both teams for the rest of the match: the scorers with confidence to score again and the receivers with determination stop the scoring team. Simply put, it was intoxicating to me. My whole body surged with adrenaline, my mind ecstatic.

This feeling, this game, was what I lived to play.

I could hear the others cheer, Moniwa commending me on my receive. From the other side of the court, I could hear Sukunami apologizing for not receiving the ball and that he’d get the next one most definitely. If it was a test of endurance he wanted, a test of receiving, I would win. I can’t lose, not to him, not to the other side, not to anyone; not here, not now or anywhere, I would win.

Obara ended up serving next, Sakunami receiving it well. However, the other kid with brown hair and thick eyebrows didn’t set it very accurately and the spiker couldn’t hit it properly. Aone ended up easily blocking the spike, his height and jumping capabilities surpassing the spiker’s by a large margin. I safely assumed, after that mishap, that Moniwa was the only setter on the team, at least in the starting line-up.

“Nice block, Aone!” Moniwa complimented. Aone simply nodded his head and got back in position. He really is the quiet type, but, he gets the job done so I can’t complain. Obara served again, and again Sakunami received it well. If that was as far as his abilities as a libero went, I had already won this match.

In my thought, thick eyebrows spiked the ball next to me, somehow getting past Aone. Slightly dazed, I watched as the ball flew passed me, edging closer and closer to the floor.

“I can’t let it hit the floor, I can’t. I can’t mess up now, not from simply spacing out.” I thought, the ball nearing the floor as each microsecond passed. I had to react, I couldn’t just stand there and gawk. With that, I lurched backwards with my entire body, a desperate move to at least touch the ball. My fist slipped under the ball at the last moment, but, with no calculations for its trajectory, it went flying out of bounds. I had let them score…

“Hey, don’t mind Aliere-kun! You tried your best!” Obara called as he came to help me off the floor. I refused his help and glared at him, my nostrils flaring slightly.

“That wasn’t my best, and that won’t happen again. They won’t score another point while I’m here.” I snarled. I wasn’t going to lose, especially after that failure of mine. I dusted off my knees and got back into position, ignoring the look of befuddlement on Obara’s face. Thick eyebrows, which I think I heard was called Sasaya, was up to serve. I bore my eyes onto his figure as he served, and as the ball propelled off his hand I took off. Before the ball finished crossing the narrow net, I was in position.

“I’m not holding back anymore, I won’t get lost in anything but the game!” I barked, my intensity shining from the back row of the court. The ball bounced off my arms to Moniwa, who was slightly taken back by my outburst. Nonetheless, he set the ball in motion to Obara, who spiked it through Blondie again. But this time, Sakunami recovered the ball and sent it to the last unknown kid to set. Sasaya and Blondie both got into position to spike and Aone to block, but, who was going to spike? My eyes took to the rising ball going right for…

“Aone! Block Blondie!” I yelled, Aone shaking in surprise before running to mark Blondie. Blondie seemed shocked that I called the spike so soon and the resulting spike was weaker than expected, the ball falling dejectedly to the floor with Aone’s block.

“Hey! My name’s not Blondie! Respect your vice-captain!” Kamasaki boomed, his face full of anger. I waved my hand in recognition and jogged back into position, but Moniwa grabbed my arm.

“How did you know it was going to Kamasaki-kun?” he questioned. My facial response was apparently not what he expected and he backed up a little, a blush creeping on his face. “Don’t get me wrong! It was impressive to say the least. I just want to know how you figure it out so fast!”

I didn’t really know what to say. The ability to see where the ball was going kind of just came naturally to me, whether it was because I was a libero or something else I didn’t know. “Well, when I was little I wanted to be a setter, so I practiced setting for a while until I became a libero. I guess that’s where my calculations on the ball’s path came from.” I lied. Half it was true; Carson has wanted to be a setter but I didn’t. Maybe it was Carson telling me where it was going as a setter. No, that was a silly idea; Carson couldn’t set a ball let alone know where it was going after a set.

“Oh, okay. Maybe you could teach us how to read a set better sometime!” Moniwa stated, his face rid of the earlier blush. “Let’s keep the game going in our favor!” With that, the game continued on.

Occasionally, I would look to Coach Oiwake to see his expression, but, he never showed much more than a straight face. His eyes said nothing either, but, sometimes when I received a ball or called a spike his eyes widened a little. I think I was putting on a good show for him, a show of my talent and abilities. If he didn’t put me in as a starter, he was insane.

By the time our team reached match point, the other side had four points. Gladly, none of the points were scored because of me: two from the ball going out-of-bounds off of Aone’s blocks and one from Obara serving into the net. Sakunami had put up a fight to keep us from scoring, but as the rallies got longer, he couldn’t keep up. By the time we got to ten points his dives were shorter and his receives more sloppy, but it never reached a point where he couldn’t get the job done. All in all, he was a good libero, but I was better.

No one would beat me, the star from the shadows.

* * *

 

**Carson POV:**

Whenever Alex takes over, I fall into a trance in the darkness of my mind. The dark is cold, yet warm, as if I’m in winter but next to a fireplace. It seems lonely here in the dark, but I can feel that I’m with others; Alex is always with others when he’s in control.

I can feel my body while I’m here: the air tingling my skin, the dampness of sweat dripping and clinging to my shirt, the voices echoing in the air. Every movement has a certain feel, like a dance, and I can see it in the shadows of the dark. Sometimes the shadows dance slowly and rhythmically, and sometimes they are fast and uncoordinated; the slow represents stillness and the fast represents movement. Every sound has a rippling effect, and every feeling determines the temperature. The louder it gets, the more ripples hit me, and the more intense Alex gets, the hotter it becomes. Alex is in control both inside and out when he plays, and I, I just exist here until I get to return.

I wonder if this is how Alex feels when I am in control. Do my actions cause these occurrences for him too? Or do I cause different ones in respect to how different we are? How does he feel when I’m in control? Probably anxious, he always wants to play volleyball, maybe even mad that I won’t let him play volleyball all the time.

Maybe I’ll ask him when I come back to. Huh, I wonder how long I’ve been out; I never learned how long practice was. I don’t even know who the team is besides Sakunami. That’s not good…. Hopefully Alex doesn’t put me back in with the team and instead takes us home first. I don’t want them to find out or be suspicious of me. I don’t need to hurt anyone anymore, or make anyone worry about my health. I don’t want any of that. I just want to play volleyball.

“Play volleyball, huh? Well kid, you won’t get to do that, but, you will get to meet the team, sort of.” I hear from far away. I know that it’s Alex, but I can’t see him yet; usually he appears in a light.

“Alex? Alex, are you going to sleep now? Am I waking up? Are you putting me back in with the team? I don’t know them at all, I only know Sakunami! You’re gonna embarrass us if you do that!” I protest, my words picking up speed with every sentence.

“Hey, don’t worry. I’ll give you the run down when we swap out, like normal. What, do you not trust me anymore?” Alex reasoned, walking into a light forming in front of me. His body, my body, was dripping with sweat; my bangs sticking to my forehead and dark. I feel my muscles in more detail than before, their slight whines of exertion becoming apparent. And what was that question he asked? Do I trust him?

“No time for thinking, they want you out there, kid. They’re even calling your name, not mine.” Alex pokes, his smile stretching slightly. He extends his hand to me, as normal.

“They're not calling my first name, and you know that. We have the same last name.” I respond. I take his hand and the light grows brighter until all the darkness disperses. I feel myself come into control of my body; first my heart beating, and then my breathing, and finally with my all my body's muscles.

I have awoken.

* * *

 

My eyes come into focus on seven boys near me, a man and girl standing in front of me, and a volleyball court underneath me. As my ears become functional again, my name hits me along with praises from the boys.

“You played really well, Aliere-kun! I wouldn’t have guessed you were such a good libero!”

“I can’t believe you saved some of those balls, haha. I swore I would score off those.”

“Teach me how to read sets sometime!”

All of the commotion overwhelmed my recovering body, and all I could do was smile and nod. It took a little bit, but I recognized who the boys were, as well as the man and girl, from Alex. The silver haired one was Aone, the cat-eyed one Moniwa, Kamasaki the blondie…

“Aliere-kun.” The man – Coach Oiwake! – said, waving me over to him. His face was serious, but wasn’t threatening. I approached him, the other boys still discussing my – Alex’s– performance.

“Yes, Coach?” I asked, uncertain of what he was going to say. Alex didn’t tell me much of what happened besides winning, and the boy’s talk didn’t shed much light either.

“I was… impressed, with your performance out there. Not only do you have individual skill, you were able to work well together with the team you were provided. I believe, if this trend continues, you will become a starting member. But, Sakunami-kun will still be able to replace you if I deem necessary. Understood?”

“Tsk, Sakunami couldn’t replace me.” Alex chided innerly. “He’s nowhere near my level.”

“Yes, I understand. Thank you, Coach Oiwake-sensei. I will not disappoint you.” I say, ignoring Alex’s remark and bowing more than necessary to make up for Alex's disrespect.

“Ok. Now, everyone, gather up.” Oiwake ordered. The boys stopped their discussion and huddled loosely around Oiwake. “As of now, Aliere-kun will most likely become a starter for Date Tech. His skill, cooperation, and determination as a libero will increase the defensive power of the team ten-fold. I expect you all to treat him as part of the team from now on. Tomorrow, we will have morning practice as well as afternoon practice; all of you will attend. You are dismissed.”

With Oiwake’s speech coming to an end, we began cleaning up the gymnasium. Sakunami and I ended up racing to see who could clean the floor fastest, which, led to Kamaski yelling at our childishness. Moniwa saved us, however, calming Kamasaki before he got more agitated; it didn’t help that we kept going despite his threats. The others put away the balls and Aone put away the net. I was still struck by how tall he was, and, secretly, how he had no eyebrows. Was that a personal thing or was that just how he was? I’d probably never know; he still scared me.

After retrieving my bags from the clubroom, I ended up bumping into Aone while I wasn’t looking. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention…”

He just looked at me, his scowl set on his face, but, it didn’t seem as frightening as when saw it that morning. Then, at a volume of maybe a whisper, in a fitting deep voice, Aone said “You did well.” With that, he began walking off into the city, I assumed to go home.

Oh god, home… What time was it? I hope my mother isn’t worrying, I don’t need her to worry more than she does. I began to run, and as I picked up speed, I passed Aone. I guess we live in the same direction? I caught a second of his face as I passed: a lack of understanding; I was running pretty fast. But, I didn’t have time to think about it, and I kept running all the way home.

Right before I entered the house, out of breath and somewhat scared of the thought of my mother, I looked into the night sky. Miyagi wasn’t as bright as the areas in America, so the stars shown through brightly, illuminating all corners of the darkened sky. There, I saw one star that took my eye more than any of the other countless ones.

That shadowed star that, despite its lacking brilliance, still twinkled in the night sky.

Just like me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Action scenes are fun, and also multiple POVs are fun. I'm really getting a feel for my style of writing with this fic, and also where I'm going to go with it. That's really all I have to say this time around. Critiques are welcome, and thanks for reading!


	4. Dreams in the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “What is life? A madness. What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story. And the greatest good is little enough; for all life is a dream, and dreams themselves are only dreams.”  
> -Pedro Calderon de la Barca

**Carson POV:**

Ended up, my mother wasn’t as worried about me as I thought she would be.

After I had left in the morning, she contacted Coach Oiwake and learned the schedule for practices, as well as any upcoming matches the team would have. Also, she had contacted Dr. Takamura and scheduled appointments around my volleyball schedule. All of my appointments would be in the morning, before school started, and when there was no morning practice; Dr. Takamure had also included transportation information, directions, and things I might need to take with me.

“Carson, you’re first appointment is on Friday so make sure to get to sleep early. You don’t want to miss your first appointment with someone we’ve sacrificed so much to see.” My mother lectured, her eyes staring seriously into my own; but, I could see a tint of worry deep inside those green eyes. I wish that tint could go away one day.

“Yes, I know. I won’t miss it.” I muttered dejectedly. Psychiatrists never fell on my good side: their constant prodding questions and attempted sympathy was grotesque. To think, that if I could answer the questions I ask myself day in, day out, I wouldn’t need them. Or, would I?

My head began swimming, a sea of trouble brewing in the corners of my mind. Alex seemed agitated as well, his voice echoing loudly within, but I couldn’t make anything out of it. It just felt like I was in a cave, alone, with thousands of sounds being choreographed to me like the climax of an orchestral piece. I could see my mother trying to say something, but, none of the words came through the raging storm.

Eventually, my mother grabbed my shoulders and shook lightly, the storm passing over. Her panicked words became less groggy, reeling my thoughts back to reality. Alex calmed down as well, his voice lowering until it became mute.

“Carson, are you okay? Is something the matter? You looked dazed, and, and… empty.” My mother worried, her gaze falling from my face, a sad expression adorning her own. Why was it that both my actions and inactions caused so much worry? There was nothing that could be done to stop either, yet, they caused so much emotional harm to others. Why did I not feel anything? Why was I so unreactive to this?

My mind became a storm again, and I remember taking my mother’s hands off my shoulders, her face filled with shock and worry, as if what I was doing could take me away from her forever. My body moved on its own, taking me into the back of the house where my room was; the door opening and closing with little sound and purpose. My focus left me, and I felt the soft bounce of the bed as I fell onto it.

Sleep like this, unintentional and unwanted, was never a pleasant experience.

* * *

 

I felt the darkness around me, a place I was familiar and comfortable in. My body seemingly floated in the void with no direction or intention. I simply existed here. There was nothing to worry about, nothing to hurt me, nothing… nothing…. There was nothing at all.

Did I truly exist here in the dark, or was I imagine I did? I couldn’t move or call out into the dark, so, did I truly exist? Or was I one with the darkness, like a shadow; was I a shadow of myself here? Nothing pointed me towards any conclusion. Nothing, nothing at all here… Just darkness.

Suddenly, the curtain of emptiness pulled back, revealing blinding and intruding lights. My body hissed in retaliation to the change in atmosphere, it yearning for the darkness to swallow it again. The lights familiarized as they showed no sign of relenting, and there stood one man in the brilliance. His back was turned to me, yet, I knew who he was. The man who had turned my life into a series of twists and turns, none leading towards any worthwhile destination.

My first psychiatrist: Dr. Strada.

Even without seeing his face, I knew it by heart. The way his nose claimed too much real estate on his face, the way it bent slightly downwards, shadowing the lack of curve in his straight lips. His dull brown eyes that were masked behind glasses too slim to frame his face. His dirty, messy, repulsive hair slick with grease and spread in patches across his scalp. The man’s body language screamed his lack of confidence and coherence; the characteristics that sent me across the world in the first place.

He turned to me, all his features burning my skin as if they were red-hot coals. He motioned his hand to a chaise lounge that materialized abruptly. My body moved with the gesture, as if pulled by his motion like a puppet on strings. I tried to resist, but, to no avail. There was no escape here; he was the master and I was the subordinate.

His eyes, empty and lifeless, stared towards my now lying body, as if examining me. He resembled a hyena, injured and desperate for prey, as it looked at scraps left behind from stronger forces of nature. I was scraps left behind from Alex, a shell of the boy I once was, and he… he was the predator who wished to eat me.

His mouth opened, at first no noise came out. I stared, my body still not responding to my desperate urges to run, to run far away from this man and return to the darkness that sheltered me. I wanted to return to nothing, I wanted to become nothing. I didn’t want to be made into something, to be molded into his rubric of mental brokenness.

Without warning, his voice rang out in a flurry of questions, each and every one echoing off sudden enclosing walls.

“When did this first come about? This, other personality of yours?”

“Why is he called Alex? Did you know a boy named Alex in your childhood?”

“You say Alex only wants to play volleyball? Why is that?”

“Alex takes control of your body, you say? What happens when he takes control?”

“Why do you feel that way? Why do let Alex take over?”

“Could it be, that Alex is simply a figment of your imagination?”

All his questions raged in the closing room, each resounding louder than the last. My body became a swarm of senses, each word, each syllable, each letter a crawling bug under my skin. I felt like I was being devoured from the inside-out. I wanted release from this hell; this hell that was my life.

But the storm, the storm was only beginning.

* * *

 

It felt like an eternity under Dr. Strada’s claim. Each question poured from his mouth like sewage, sickening my body; and with each question, the walls collapsed closer and closer unto us, until, we were face to face. His lifeless eyes bore into my own, his mouth agape and dark. I wanted to scream, I wanted to do anything to get him away.

Suddenly, my body lurched away from Dr. Strada, slamming into the wall behind me. The wall was cold, and my body having been heated by his features, groaned in cooling. It pained me to feel the wall, to know that it had just pushed me towards him and bounced those imposing questions onto me. I wanted to close my eyes and wish this all away, and for a second, I got that wish.

The moment the darkness came back, the feeling of nothing surrounding me, I felt free. Here, the darkness could not hurt me, no, I was the darkness: we were one. My body dissipated, only to be forcefully formed again as the lights returned in grander luminance.

Before me stood Dr. Strada, and hundreds of faceless figures. Each one bore the outfit of a psychiatrist, each holding a clipboard to their chest. They all moved as one, their eyes, so void of life, of understanding or sympathy, took to my own. My eyes burned with the contact, tears flowing like a river in a rainstorm.

I knew what torture awaited me, and I knew that I could do nothing to stop it. Their mouths followed, one by one, and each shrieked out questions, some the same, some different. The questions did not come straight to me, but, began to fill the room like water. As the water rose, so did the volume and repetition of their words.

“Alex, is it? That’s the one in your head?”

“Alex is the boy who plays volleyball for you? You made a deal with him to do that?”

“Alex uses you.”

“Alex isn’t you.”

“I want to speak to ‘Alex’.”

“Alex isn’t real. None of what you’re thinking is real!”

“Alex, Alex, ALEX!”

It was never the boy in front of them that mattered, it was the boy inside of him. It was always about Alex and not me, I was never asked how I felt. They all wanted to know about Alex, as if he were this saint or grand being. He wasn’t, he was the worst thing to happen to me, to everyone. Nothing good has ever come from Alex; all the good things that do happen come for him and him only! He’s the one with the skill, he’s the one with the talent; he’s the one with everything! And I’m just left here, a shell, a pawn, a puppet in his grasp to use for his gains.

My body pulses wildly, and all my pent-up rage explodes into the sea of questions. I feel myself become nothing, and then expand across the sea like a cloud. I crack thunder and pour, my emotions rampaging in the stormy sea. The true self illuminating the sky with lightning.

I am nothing, and I am all.

* * *

 

**Alex POV:**

I stand alone on the dark court, the white lines the only things I can see. I hear voices, but see no one speaking. With a flash, a light rises and falls and propels itself towards me. The light enthralls me, calling for me to catch it before it fades away. I will myself to move in tandem to its path, all my being going into saving this light from dying.

But, my body does not move. I watch as the light falls to the ground, breaking into a million fragments that litter the court like stars in the sky. The stars shine, revealing boys, boys who resemble my teammates from years past and present. Their faces all carved with disgust as they look to me.

“Maybe you’re not as good as you said you were. You couldn’t save that ball.”

“You’re pathetic. How could you have ever made it to the championships? No wonder you lost.”

“What? Your body already at its limit? Are you gonna fall again and pass out?”

“Give up, you can’t play.”

“You’re a loser!”

Their words stab into my soul, my body falling to the floor in agony. How could they say that? I couldn’t move, I couldn’t get to the ball. They have no right to attack me for something I couldn’t control! Control?! Was I not in control? Was that why I didn’t move? Why am I not in CONTROL!?

I flare and burn, my blood coursing fire through me. A thousand lights similar come towards me, and in that moment I feel no other feeling but to receive them all. I push my body beyond its limit, saving light after light from falling to the floor, each save sending them into the darkness above.

After countless lights ascending into the darkness, my body stops. I cannot move again, why, why can I not move anymore. I’m in control, I need to move; I need to save them all. I need to prove them wrong, prove them all wrong. I belong on this court, this is my home. I can’t let them take it from me.

The lights above center on to me, fully bathing me in radiant light. I try to shield myself from the shine, but, they push me down. I fall, the solid ground of the court no longer below me. I fall for what feels like forever, and I come to realize the lights above are the stars in the night sky, and that I was one of those stars. I fall until the stars are no longer visible, replaced by the cracks of thunder and flashes of lightning. I become one with the storm and let my emotions rage outwards.

I am nothing, and I am all.

* * *

 

**Both:**

Eventually, my body runs out of emotions to call upon. The rain, the thunder and lightning, all cease. I become nothing again, but the sea below me still waves and crashes. After some time, the waves still and I submerge into the sea.

I feel the water move me, guiding me towards a destination. I do not fight it, for there is no more storm, no more torture or pain to be had. I let the current flow, each twist and turn relaxing my being into submission. For the first time since this all began, my eyes close and the darkness swallows me again.

I am a dream, and I am a storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I lost connection here with what I was going for. This most likely will get revised or extended to better match what I was thinking. Other than that, I've changed the tags and rating to better represent the story's concept. This is a story based around character progression and my analysis of the OC, so I'm not entirely sure how long it will be until I actually pair the two together. Until then, expect semi-dark themes and events, as well as extended internal character dialogue. I really want to make this character life-like. With that, critiques are highly encouraged and thanks for reading!


	5. Broken Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “You're always searching for the thing to heal you, and I thought therapy would give me that. But it didn't - it just helps you recognize your demons.”  
> -Rick Springfield  
> “The best therapy is actually the more aggressive kind when they break you open; they unleash you.”  
> -Cara Delevingne

**Carson POV:**

Waking from the recurring dream was like the storm truly never passed within my mind. It was as if both Alex and I had control over the body but neither of us could achieve anything; every movement was spastic and uneasy, every thought foggy, every object a sound or blur. The storm that once raged on within now manifested itself outwardly. There was nothing to do but wait for it to pass.

Lying there on bed, still fully clothed in my athletic attire, my thoughts wandered aimlessly in the blinding rain of the storm. I remembered the stars from last night, how the one shined alongside all the others even though it was dimmer than the rest. Despite the others, it still drew my eyes to it and spoke to me.

“You are the star hidden by shadows.”

A star, left to desperately shine through light-absorbing shadows. Why did that star seem to resemble me? Why did I feel connected to a thing that was thousands of light years away and most likely dead for centuries? There’s nothing star-quality about me; maybe Alex with his volleyball skills, but I don’t have anything redeemable.

“You’re a star by association.” Alex cut in, my thoughts suddenly falling onto Alex. He was sort of right: he and I were the same body, so whatever my body did, even if he did it, I did. Is that how that works? But, could I take credit for something I personally didn’t do? Alex and I were two different people who happen to be part of the same body, so by definition, he was the one to credit for those skills, not me.

“You overthink things a lot, ya know. If you just let things happen we wouldn’t be in this nausea-inducing, immobilizing brain storm. Ha-ha, get it? Brain storm…” Alex chuckled, trying to make light of the situation. I guess his joke was kind of funny, but the problem was still there. Usually the storm passes by now and we could at least see properly.

With that thought, my body became less restless and static, the fog in my mind lifted, and my sight and hearing became more defined. It was like the gears of my body began moving again after being forced to stop by the uninvited sleep. The first thing I could focus on was the red, blinking numbers of my bedside clock. It was only four-thirty in the morning. I could feel my body want to sigh in relief, so I vocalized it in obligation. Both my body, after having been pushed by Alex in the practice match, and my mind, after the stormy dream, could use the additional rest I’d been blessed with.

“You have practice in about two hours.” Alex sneered, his chuckle returning as I had fully buried my face into a pillow. I could almost hear the groan my body gave off, having been tricked into thinking it would get longer rest.

“Why must I be cursed with morning practice? Who even thought that was a good idea…” I muttered, my pillow now folded around my head in complaint. I knew, even if I tried to fall asleep now, it wouldn’t be worth it; I’d probably feel worse than I did now. Probably better to just wake my body up with something like exercise or –

“Volleyball. We can practice volleyball, that’s refreshing and will wake us up.” Alex interrupted, his voice both demanding and gleeful. To think, he wanted to practice volleyball before we had volleyball practice, which we would have twice today.

“I guess, if that’s really what you want to do.” I replied in a drawl, my legs swinging off the bed. They seemed to protest as I began to stand, but steadied out like they knew no amount of complaining would stop what was going to happen. As I stretched over my head, I realized I hadn’t showered since yesterday morning, too enthralled by the sleep to do anything last night. I grabbed a change of clothes and walked to the bathroom, turning the shower on as I relieved myself.

Stripping off my gross athletic attire, my skin pricked at the bareness. It was early in the morning, and even inside it was cool. However, the hot water stimulated my skin, relaxing all the knots and sore muscles from practice and sleep. It was refreshing, and nothing else seemed to matter but the feel of water running down my skin.

My eyes closed, imagining that I was floating in the darkness. I only felt the tingle of my skin and the sound of water pounding the tiles of the shower. It was calming, almost ethereal. I became void of worry, and for a moment, it seemed like I was normal; a normal boy in a normal world. A world where I didn’t have dreams like I’d had, a world where I hadn’t moved across the country losing out on two years of childhood, a world where Alex wasn’t here. It was so peaceful to think about, but sadly, that world wasn’t reality.

“Hey, I’d rather not be soaking wet when I start practicing. You’ve stood here for about five minutes; do something or get out.” Alex badgered. My thoughts of normalcy returned to harsh reality. There was no possible way for me to achieve normalcy now, I was far too lost to be rescued. Why did I even go and think about it…

I quickly washed my hair and body, having neglected the reason for showering because of my thoughts. Drying myself off, I could see that the hallway light was on outside the bathroom door. I didn’t remember turning it on before coming in… Maybe Mom got up from the sound of the shower? A knock at the door confirmed my suspicions.

“Carson? What exactly are you doing up at a time like this?”

“I couldn’t go back to sleep, Mom, Sorry to have woken you up.”

There was a silence following my response. From beyond the door, she must have been contemplating what to say, but, why would she need to think about a response? It wasn’t until a small sniffle permeated the air, followed by another and another. She was crying? Quickly dressing myself to decency, I opened the door to see my mother, still wearing her outfit from yesterday, hopelessly slide down the wall attempting to hold back a full-blown sob.

“Mom? What’s the matter? You don’t need to cry, everything’s okay…” I lied in an attempt to calm her down. Everything wasn’t fine, we both knew that. She just wanted a son, and I… I couldn’t give her that. Not a normal one, at least.

“Last night, you, you…” she began, but her whimpering manifested into outcries of anguish and worry. Her eyes were already red and her cheeks stained, showing that she was crying even before, if not recently. Had I caused her so much distress last night?

“I had,” I realized.

I dropped to the floor besides her, gently wrapping my arms around her shuddering form. She latched onto me, her arms darting behind me and hands clutching my shirt. It was all so desperate and sad, a mother grabbing at her child like she hadn’t seen him for years. She hadn’t really, I wasn’t the child she had before, not when Alex became a part of me.

We stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, my mutterings of “It’ll be okay, I promise” doing little to calm her down. She was a broken parent, and I was a broken child. Together, we made nothing more than a mess of pieces left to be picked up or tossed away. We didn’t fit together, but, we were all we had.

Eventually, her hands released my shirt and her arms untangled themselves from me. I shifted backwards in response, looking in to her puffy, red eyes. I caused all of this, all this pain. But, she had stayed through it all, like a true parent would. She had lived as a single mother since I was a baby, no experience in child-raising beside what she learned from taking care of me. Even with all the odds stacked against her, she stayed, and she prevailed. She may have worn her heart on her sleeve, letting all the harshness of the world whip and stomp her down, but she kept getting back up.

She raised herself off the ground, her movements slightly wobbly, but she raised herself nonetheless. This woman, who had fallen and been ripped apart by stress and her own son’s condition, had glued herself back together and stood, to fight again for what she loved: me.

“I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” She whispered. Her eyes darted from my still crouching form into the hallway like she would shatter again if she took in too much of my features. As I stood to match her, she shifted in place, trying not initiate anything between us, as if saying “It’s ok, we don’t have to talk about it.” I stared, worried for her, but she didn’t give much other than what she was giving. I excused myself to return to my bedroom and she began walking towards the front.

We were two parts of the same puzzle, yet, we’d never fit again after being broken.

* * *

 

After the incident with my mother, Alex had spurred to life pestering and pushing to get out and practice volleyball. He didn’t even care that my mother was in a state of incredible sadness caused by his indirect existence. We wouldn’t be this way if he had never come into existence, a plague no one had wished to descend upon our fragile and weak beings.

My departure didn’t seem to shock my mother as I opened the door into the early morning, the sun still not having peaked across the horizon. I had left in a hurry, half because Alex was practically pushing me out himself, and half because I didn’t want to cause any more pain for her. But, more than likely, I had caused her even more pain by picking up the volleyball at the door, catching her eyes run from the very thing that had started this whole mess.

The morning air was brisk and cool, my gym jacket, which I had found in my gym bag this morning – Nametsu had most likely shoved it in there before practice ended – gave a slight warmth to combat the morning air. Everything was still as I walked through the streets; there was no sound or movement besides my own. I was left to listen to my own footsteps and breathing, both rhythmic in their own beat. I was all there was.

By the time I had reached Date Tech, the sun had taken its first step into the fleeting night sky. The world began to move in that moment, the birds seemingly all waking to fill the air with chirps and shrill calls. The small rumble of people talking layered itself below the calling birds, and the steady hum of cars somewhere in the distance below that.

Too busy in my observations of the world, I didn’t notice the sitting form near the club room door, which I promptly tripped over. I landed sprawled across the walkway, my body tingling with annoyance. In the last few days I had made more contact with the ground than any other time in my life. It wasn’t until whatever I had tripped on grunted loudly that I wonder what I had fallen over.

To my surprise, it was the giant middle blocker Aone. His perpetual scowl was radiating with irritation, and he looked to my legs that still remained over his sitting form. I moved to stand and get off of him, not wanting to evoke the wrath of the silver-haired titan. I bowed deeply along with a bombardment of “Sorry!” and “I wasn’t looking!” He merely grunted again, this time in what I assumed as acceptance.

As I straightened out from the bow, I couldn’t help but see that he had a volleyball next to him. Had he come here early too to practice? He didn’t give off any vibes that would either confirm or deny passion for the game, but he was here earlier than I was…

“Hey, you here early to practice volleyball or what?” Alex asked plainly, startling me. Aone simply looked back towards us and nodded his head, his scowl still on his face. Does he ever smile or use any other type of facial expression?

“Well, there’s not much to do without a net, and I assume that since you’re out here we can’t get into the club room or gym, so I guess we’ll have to improvise.” Alex pointed out, Aone seemingly slightly abashed by the comment. Ah, so there were emotions behind that scowl of his besides discontent or indifference.

His ascent up from the ground was almost breathtaking; to think that a gargantuan like him could move with such vigor and speed. He removed his jacket to reveal a plain white cotton shirt, his broad shoulders slightly straining the material. I blushed lightly for having stared, avoiding his eyes despite him not knowing of my innocent actions.

We walked silently together to a patch of grass that was still fresh with glistening dew. I could feel the wet grass through my shoes, the collective moisture giving a damp feeling to the soles. Aone had stopped a short distance back, presumably waiting for me to give direction to this practice he and I were engaging. I actually didn’t know what we were going to do and I looked to him for guidance. I only received the same expression I had shortly known him for: a scowl.

“Ok, so we can do one of two things. I can practice serves for no reason and you can practice receiving, or, “Alex began, emphasizing his desire to do whatever he was going to say next, “you can spike to me and I’ll receive. Either or.” The ending was accentuated with a hand gesture and a very-clear showing of the number two with fingers. Aone looked at us, possibly confused at why there were two options, yet one was not wanted. When the confusion left his face, he meagerly shrugged, having decided he preferred neither.

“Fine, I’ll receive; first I’ll toss and you can spike it and we’ll repeat the process until we’re finished.” Alex confirmed. I could feel a sense of tiredness surge through me as Alex moved to face Aone. I attempted to keep focused, but, the tiredness was like a tall wave crashing onto me.

“Get some sleep, you need it for school. I can handle morning practice.” Alex advised innerly, my mind becoming dark and blank. The sleep covered me like a blanket, the darkness my warmth and comfort. I remember feeling the ball pushed into the air and the sound of a slap before I receded into the shadows of my mind.

My piece of the puzzle didn’t fit here, back to the pile again.

* * *

 

I awoke to find myself sitting in class, Sakunami rattling off about morning practice. His words were a jumble of excitement and determination, something about not wanting to lose his spot or something. It was all foggy still from switching, especially after being rudely awoken with no warning for my sake.

“Aliere-kun, are you listening to me?” Sakunami asked, his face approaching mine questioningly. I quaintly smiled and nodded in agreement, his eyes lighting up again as if my recognition was the best part of his day. Without a second thought, Sakunami began chattering again about practice, and I tuned it out in an attempt to understand what had even occurred.

Ok, Aone and Alex had practiced a few things before the rest of the team showed up. Moniwa was the first to arrive, opening the club room while also teasing them for their eagerness to practice; apparently, Aone had blushed at the remark, for whatever reason Alex noticed that. Kamasaki was next, followed by Sasaya and Futakuchi. Alex hadn’t paid any attention to Sakunami, consciously or not, since there was no recollection of him arriving, nor Coach or Nametsu.

Practice seemed pretty routine like the practice back in America: stretching, running, drills, and warm-down. Alex noted nothing of importance from practice, and Sakunami was still going off about practice. Strange how the two didn’t line up in how practice was, but, I wasn’t exactly paying attention to Sakunami.

“If you don’t want to talk you could have just said so, Aliere-kun.” Sakunami interjected, having noticed for the second time I wasn’t paying attention. He looked disappointed that I hadn’t paid him attention, his arms crossing with a huff.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about something. It has nothing to do with you.” I reassured. He seemed to relax a little, but his arms still remained crossed in protest. However, we couldn’t continue since Nakamori-sensei walked in and announced the start of class.

“Today, we’ll begin with World History.” Nakamori stated, his hand beginning to sketch out a drawing of the world. Again, like déjà vu, the class whined in protest.

My piece, broken and jagged, seemed to fit here, in a place I knew before volleyball.

* * *

 

**Alex POV:**

I had skipped out on quite a bit of what happened at morning practice, actually.

After Moniwa showed up and teased us, I didn’t intentionally look to Aone, but, well, I was just kind of drawn to him like metal to a magnet. To see, there in all its undiscovered and pristine glory, was a red hue adorning his cheeks and ears. It was fascinating and intriguing to put it lightly. Despite having only known him for two days, to see him like that was surprising. I thought he had no other expression but a scowl, but when he got embarrassed, he actually seemed normal – well, as normal as a huge, silver-haired boy with no eyebrows could be.

The teasing had actually continued once we entered the club room, Moniwa noticing how I was blatantly examining Aone’s face. “Aliere-kun, you don’t have to stare so intensely; he’s not going anywhere. Maybe you should take a picture while you’re at it.” Moniwa laughed, causing my own face to share Aone’s hue, although, Aone’s had darkened hearing how I was looking at him. It was awkward, but still fascinating. I wondered how else I could stimulate such a response, varying responses really, that could make his perpetual frown change.

I occupied myself so deeply with the thought of it that I completely missed that Sakunami had entered the club room with a loud yawn. Sakunami had apparently also greeted me, but too busy in thought I had missed it as well.

Eventually, the thought came to pass, but, I kept my gaze far from Aone. I didn’t want to kindle the fire of the thought anymore and rather keep my mind focused on what I was here: volleyball. All the others had arrived except for Coach and Nametsu when we unlocked the gymnasium and began stretches. During the whole routine, I continued to avoid the thought of Aone and his expressions that I could discover.

Little did I know, that much more difficult than originally conceived.

Coach Oiwake and Nametsu showed up about twenty minutes into practice, stopping our current actions and rallying us for instructions. We were to put time into working on spikes and blocks by splitting up on separate sides of the net by our positions; Moniwa and the spikers went to one side and Sakunami, the middle blockers, and I went to the other.

Well, the universe officially wanted me to entertain the thought of Aone. We rotated every ten spikes, and Aone rotated off and on the court with me. At first, I was completely distracted by imaging expressions he might make that I missed the first three spikes. I heard Coach Oiwake yell at me to get focused, but it was far more difficult than that.

In completely honesty, I’m a single-tracked thinker. I’m usually stuck thinking about volleyball because I enjoy it so much, and also that it is in a sense my entire existence, but now I was stuck thinking about expressions. Expressions that were adorned by the one standing in front of me, his backed turned to me. Whenever the spike went passed his block, he would turn towards me to see if I had received the ball, which more often than not I didn’t, and the thought flared with sight of his face.

Why, why was his stupid scowl and stupid face so enthralling to my mind? What was the connection it was trying to draw to be literally filling my thoughts with his face? I couldn’t seem to shake the thoughts at all, and with every failed receive I could feel Coach get more and more irritated with my performance. After some time, he sent me off to run two laps around the outside of the gym to think and refocus.

The whole time running I spent just trying to focus on anything else but Aone’s face. My eyes searched the landscape and my ears tuned in desperately to anything that might grab my attention. In the end, I came to focus on the steady beat of my heart and breathing, which, in turn I made symbolize the orchestrated movement of a volleyball team. Finally, I was back.

I had conquered my own mind.

* * *

 

When I returned into the gym to continue practice, it was my turn to receive. Aone, who stood by the net, took a look towards me with a look of concern. His face seemed to ask “Why is your behavior off?” or “What’s on your mind?” which I waved off. If he knew, I probably wouldn’t be able to face him for a while. Or maybe, I could entice an expression out of hi—

Nope, not going to think about that anymore. I was here to play volleyball, and I really don’t want to anger Coach and go for another few punishment laps. I breathed in, deep and full, and exhaled to bring myself into focus.

The lines of the court became intensely apparent, extending upwards like walls until we were fully enclosed within them. There was nothing that mattered but what was here in these white lines. The ball, the most important part, was a bright sphere of light; I could see its movements so clearly like stars in the sky.

The ball flew upwards and down into the hands of Moniwa who set it back into motion. That shining star, ascending and falling again and again, left a trail of star dust in the now cage-like court’s air. I could see it, I could see it all, but most importantly, I could see that is was going right – there!

My movement was direct and effortless, like I was gliding or soaring, and I took the hit of the ball in my arms. The ball, this sphere of light, ascended into the air and remained there like a reminder of my actions. I could feel the eyes on me, the ones that noticed my intensity, but that didn’t matter; what mattered was that I would keep placing stars in the sky until one day there was no darkness above.

That was what I strove for; that was where my pieces would fit, there in the night sky among the stars.

* * *

 

Carson had passed control over to me quickly after the school bell rang signaling club activities. I and Sakunami bolted from the classroom, determined to get practice in one more time today. Even now, we were competing for who was better, despite this showing nearly nothing about our aptitude or skill at the sport.

In the end, I had won here too, but I didn’t get to gloat on it long as Moniwa grabbed my arm and pulled me aside. Sakunami looked confused by the captain’s actions, but Moniwa motioned for him to go into the club room and change, which he followed. Moniwa turned to me, a certain hint of curiosity in his eyes, but about what?

“You seemed off this morning, were you feeling okay? If you’re not feeling okay you should go home and rest, you’re more prone to injury when you’re sick.” He worried, but the curiosity to know what was wrong this morning still apparent in his tone.

“Oh, I was just tired, that was all. I didn’t sleep well last night.” I replied, hoping that he’d accept that as the full truth. He seemed to ponder on it, and eventually smiled and nodded his head in agreeance.

“Ok, just get some sleep tonight! Tea usually helps me sleep.” he stated, my face blanking. He had actually believe that answer, and even went to the extent to give me advice in turn. From worried to helpful, the Date Tech captain: Moniwa Kaname.

Moniwa pushed me into the club room afterwards, almost tossing me into Sakunami who was crouching on the floor. My health was in danger practically everywhere he was as well. As I went to drop off my bag and start changing, Aone entered. He wore that same scowl I wanted to get rid of – no, this is not going to happen again. I essentially began flinging my school uniform off and my athletic gear on and quickly ran out the club room door. I was not going to get stuck on the “I wonder what Aone’s face would look like from this emotion” train again today.  I nearly knocked over Kamasaki as I rushed out, a muttered apology and half bow equally as rushed in response.

“Watch it next time!” Kamasaki scolded, his brows furrowed in annoyance. “What’s his problem?” I heard as I began running around the gymnasium. I assumed what followed was a shrug from the club room, or maybe Moniwa teasing me about Aone. I really hoped it wasn’t the latter…

I ended up running four punishment laps for not focusing on practice.

* * *

 

**Carson POV:**

Coach Oiwake hadn’t even dismissed us for the night before I was again thrown back into control of my body. The sudden lack of awareness must have been apparent to whoever was standing next to me because they ended up steadying me before I fell backwards. I still wasn’t entirely focused in on my surroundings, but I could feel that whoever it was keeping me on my feet was doing it easily. When the fog left my senses and I could keep steady, I discovered that Aone was the one holding me up.

His face was set in a concerned… scowl? Was that an actual expresson? Or was I completely misinterpreting his expression? Well, whatever it was, I relinquished him from keeping me upright and thanked him for doing so. He nodded in reply and turned back to Coach Oiwake to listen to the last bit of his speech. I tried to tune back in, but, I had no clue what the context of the speech was…

He ended the speech by announcing both morning and afternoon practice would occur again tomorrow, and that on Friday we would be free from morning practice. I innerly stiffened at the mention of Friday; Friday was my first appointment with Dr. Takamura. I groaned to the thought of seeing him, but it was coincidentally covered up by the equally as exhausted groans of the other players about tomorrow’s practice schedule.

Tonight, Sakunami and I were in charge of picking up all the volleyballs left scattered around the gym. We made the chore into a game of basketball seeing who could get the most balls in quickly and from a distance, to which neither of us were very good at. Kamasaki yelled at us from the side of the court he was mopping for our horseplay. I heard the laugh of Moniwa and Obara, and a low, deep chuckle from behind me. Who was it that was behind me?

Turning to answer my question, I saw that Aone was standing there, his scowl replaced with a slight… grin! He was showing something other than a scowl! My eyes widened and my face heated up… wait, why am I blushing? I immediately avoided his glance and went back to collecting the stray balls on the court. I don’t know what came over me there…

After finishing the court’s cleaning, we all embarked for the club room for our things. I could hear Moniwa and Sasaya giggling at Kamasaki about his temper with the lower years and Sakunami yakking to Obara and Futakuchi about practice like he had this morning with me. But above all, I could hear the slightly thundering footsteps of the silver-haired boy who was walking next to me. My body felt heated again, for what reason I couldn’t seem to discover. What was there between us that made me react this way?

My only probable thought was Alex had done something to or was thinking something about the giant next to me. But what could that be? Alex only thought about volleyball, so there wasn’t much he else he’d think about, and he would have told me if something happened between him and Aone, wouldn’t he?

I shook off the fire brewing in my skin and retrieved my bag from the club room, set on walking home today. As I began my departure, I could sense footsteps behind me, thundering and rhythmic. I took a quick glance behind to discover that Aone was the one behind me, his eyes staring forward and above me. Oh yeah… I ran past him yesterday; we walk the same direction home.

Our footsteps were the only sound echoing the night air, and eventually, it became only mine. Aone must have turned off onto another street, but it was calming knowing that there was someone else here in the darkness, even if it had come to an end.

Someone here in the darkness… The same darkness I kept my broken pieces of a life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late-ish update. Life was real fun these past few days, making my sleep schedule a complete mess. But nonetheless, I will continue on. I also commissioned a friend of mine to do artwork for this fic; currently he's planning/working on the fic's main picture, which I'm really excited about. This chapter was kind of a big exposition to set a bunch of themes and parallels I'll most likely have extended throughout the fic's duration, so keep an eye out in the future. Other than that, critiques are welcome, and a big "Thank you!" for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've basically never written a fanfiction before. I've read quite a lot and after reading one, I really felt like I wanted to write this one. I was inspired by this piece (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11391811/1/Silence-is-Golden) which was beautifully written (and I personally recommend reading it), and, as I said, made me want to write this piece. I'm gonna try to progress the character alongside trying to form an accurate analysis of DID to make the piece flow well. If there's anything that you want to critique, go for it! As my first piece (and hopefully not my last), I'd love to get feedback! Thanks for reading!


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